Understanding
by editor frog
Summary: Understanding someone's actions and forgiving them are not mutually inclusive...


**So I've read some are complaining about Reid's apparent 'forgiveness' of his dad's actions after ditching him all those years ago.** **Here's my take on that argument.**

**Standard disclaimer: Characters not mine, plot only.

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I think what hit hardest of all was the distance. When Lou Jenkins told us he was in Summerlin—not even ten miles away.

All this time, and he was right under my nose. That's what hurts the most. He was _right there._ Two minutes from a knock on the door or the price of a local phone call. It was a lot easier when I thought he had moved to Boston or Maine or New Hampshire or something; started a new life and probably had another family. I could have handled the thought of having half-brothers or sisters, even a stepmother.

The reality, though, is a lot harder to swallow.

Morgan says he's never seen me that angry. I know that's not true. He called me out on that case in Texas last May, when that poor kid had the father that didn't care and threw him away. What no one understood was that I'd _been_ that kid—the only difference was, my dad walked out instead of beating or abusing me. I'm not sure which is worse.

I know that Garcia was only trying to give me some good news when she told me about Dad. It's her way—every bad thing has something silver shining on it. It's one of the things I love about her. What she didn't understand was that it hurt to know that my father—someone who was supposed to _be there_ for me when things got bad—only kept his interest at a distance. There's a part of me that is surprised, and even a little pleased, that he kept tabs on me. It doesn't make up for the years of not being there when it mattered, though.

Emily once wondered why I'd blocked out all the memories of Dad. I think, in hindsight, it was easier to imagine him having not been there than remember that he chose to leave. People don't leave when things get bad. They don't pack up and leave a ten year-old to fend for himself—especially one as different as I was. Perhaps that's why I care so much for Mom—she didn't leave. She got sick, but that wasn't her choice. She stayed.

Seeing him, in that office…I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know if he'd care. I didn't know if he'd disavowed me. I didn't know if he had forgotten all about me and had started over. Like I said, that last option would have been easier to take. At least then I would've known.

Maybe a part of me did want to punish him. In fact, I'm almost certain of it. It was always about the truth—I'd have never stopped having the dreams if I hadn't found out—but the more my family seemed to be involved, the more I wanted to believe Dad was involved somehow. On some level, I think it would have been easier for me to rationalize his leaving that way. _Oh, yeah, he left because he had this need to rape and murder children…couldn't take it out on me, though, not his own kid…_

There are times I'd look around the plane, when we'd finish a case, and I'd think about the parents of my colleagues. None of them dealt with a parent walking out. Emily's mom is distant—aspect of the job, perhaps, or a personality flaw. Morgan's dad wasn't there, but not by his own choice. I think Hotch's dad was no picnic, especially when his face gets colder when he mentions the guy in passing. Garcia lost both her parents, but again, not by choice. I always envied JJ—her parents seem happy, at least when she talks about them.

For years I thought it was me. Then I thought it was Mom, what with her condition getting worse. I used to think when I was younger that if I could just 'fix' Mom, make her at least somewhat better, then Dad would come back. After I turned twelve I realized that no matter what I did, Dad wasn't coming back. When he admitted his reasons for leaving, it broke my heart. I hadn't been far off, after all.

Before we left Vegas, Dad asked if he could call every now and again, just to say hello. I gave him the number, but I'm apprehensive. I realize this is his way of extending an olive branch, but I'm not so sure that the time for us hasn't passed. I can't forgive him for leaving, not really. I understand better, now, but I don't know if I can forgive him. I did see him go in with Mom at the sanitarium, so that might be a start. I called later, and Dr. Norman told me he spent the better part of five hours visiting with her. It's a start.

And now I'm a godfather. I'm sure Garcia will give me a better description of what's involved, but one thing's for sure—if Will ever ditches his kid, someone's always gonna be there for him. I don't think that'll happen—I saw how he was with the kids in their neighborhood a while back—but, you never know. Someone's got to be there to teach him things like how to perform 'physics magic' and the inherent fun of cartoons from the Golden Age.

Besides, I think Garcia's already laid out the plans to get Henry into Cal Tech…or Tisch, if he decides to become an actor…


End file.
